


Under the Mistletoe

by AzureSummoner



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Starlight Celebration, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureSummoner/pseuds/AzureSummoner
Summary: Azem returns to Amaurot just before the winter solstice, but seems to be avoiding Emet-Selch.  What could she be up to?
Relationships: Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch
Comments: 5
Kudos: 33
Collections: Bookclub Winter Fic Exchange 2020





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PanicZoomies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicZoomies/gifts).



> A bookclub winter exchange gift for PanicZoomies! This came out a bit different than the idea I started off with, but I hope you will like it. <3

A commotion in the hallway alerted Emet-Selch to the incoming intrusion, moments before his office door burst open. He pinched his fingers at the bridge of his nose to stem the oncoming headache.

"Good afternoon, most esteemed Emet-Selch!" Of course, it was Hythlodaeus. 

“I tried to stop him, but he was… persistent,” came a less boisterous voice. Elidibus peered around the man in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” he assured his younger colleague with feigned politeness. “I assume that he’s come to deliver a message, and will quickly be on his way.”

“Just so! I merely came to -- ahem."

A beat passed before Elidibus realized that Hythlodaeus was waiting for him to excuse himself. The taller man stood quietly with a wide smile on his face -- _a fool's grin_ , Hades thought -- until the Emissary realized he was being dismissed. 

"Ah! It seems you have this well in hand." Elidibus cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "I'll leave you to it."

Emet-Selch waved at his parting colleague, while Hythlodaeus completed the invasion of his office. He'd barely closed the door before turning on his friend with a smug, knowing air about him. 

"Fu fu… You're looking rather dour. Our dear friend wasn't enough to lift your spirits?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Isn't this an unforeseen turn of events?" 

"Get to the point, or see yourself out. I'm quite busy."

"Of course you are," Hythlodaeus tittered. The desk was piled with documents and crystals, but knowing Hades, he'd done little more than interrupt an afternoon nap. "It's no wonder you haven't noticed. I'll let you figure it out on your own."

"Did you honestly leave the Bureau just to agitate me?" he asked, but the other man was already 'fu fu-ing' his way out. He stared at Hythlodaeus' back until he'd disappeared down the hallway, then huffed moodily to himself. 

"Damn fool." He tilted his eyes down to the work spread out before him, but now the rust had been shaken loose, and the gears in his mind were turning. 

Was Azem back? No. He would have noticed.

Emet-Selch spent all of five minutes attempting to return to his work before his personal interests won out.

*****

"Yes, she's back. Did you not hear all the commotion? If I'd known you were lacking for company, I would have called on you to collect her." Lahabrea’s grumbling trailed off as his focus shifted to whatever was on his mind. He snatched up a pen and hastily scribbled notes on the parchment before him. 

Igeyorhm was perfectly cozy in the chair across from him, feet kicked up on the edge of the desk. She tilted her head toward their guest with a crooked smile. 

"Don't mind him. He's under pressure to complete the semester’s grading before the solstice break." 

“Of course. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Thankful for the excuse to avoid prolonged conversation, Emet-Selch backed up to leave. Before he could retreat from the Speaker’s office, however, Nabriales crowded into the doorway behind him and poked his head in. “My, my. It looks like a party in here. You didn’t think to invite me?”

Emet-Selch had a smart response ready on his tongue, but the words failed as he caught sight of Igeyorhm’s twisted grin. He sighed. “That’s never a good look on your face.”

“Says you,” she snorted. “What in the heavens are you wearing?"

Emet-Selch turned and was immediately taken aback by the absurdity that confronted him. Adorning Nabriales’ head was a black headband, from which a stick sprouted and bent forward under the weight of a plant hanging from its end. A sprig of mistletoe bobbed above his forehead.

"Ever 'The Majestic', yes?"

"Ever the fool. I second Igeyorhm — what in the seven hells is that?"

"This? Azem gave it to me." "She _would_ ," Lahabrea muttered under his breath. 

"Don't tell me you're jealous." 

Emet-Selch balked at the suggestion. "Ridiculous. I wouldn't be caught dead in such a stupid --"

"It's for kissing," the other man interjected helpfully. His sullen colleague fell silent. "I guess it's a thing across the sea. She said it's tradition for people who meet under the mistletoe to kiss. So, how about it?" Nabriales puckered his lips (despite his snickering), at least until he caught wind of a volatile air about the other man.

"Woah! Listen, I didn't _do anything_ with her.” Nabriales startled when the scowl on Emet-Selch’s face deepened. “It’s just a silly gift! Ask her yourself. She was headed for Elidibus’ office.”

“As if I’m her keeper.” Emet-Selch pushed past his colleague without another word, headed toward his personal office. His attempt to save face wouldn’t fool anyone. They knew that he would be paying Elidibus a visit soon, however roundabout the manner. As he left his colleagues behind, he could hear them laughing behind his back about how ‘predictable’ he was, followed by Nabriales and Igeyorhm bickering like siblings. He felt his eye twitch.

*****

“I’m afraid you just missed her.” The Emissary’s reply clearly touched a nerve, as Emet-Selch grimaced. The younger man quickly backtracked, attempting to lighten the mood. “I’m sure she’s still around. You’ll run into her soon enough.”

“I suppose,” he huffed. Something on Elidibus’ desk caught his eye. A small basket filled with orange fruits. “Are those persimmons?”

“Yes! Azem gave them to me.” The younger man didn’t seem to notice his colleague’s rankled aura. “Want one?”

“No,” he replied too quickly. “Thank you. I’ll take my leave.”

“Suit yourself. She said that this variety from overseas is especially sweet.” To demonstrate, Elidibus bit into a fruit. His lips promptly puckered. He reminded Emet-Selch of the way a snail would shrivel in a pile of salt.

“Not ripe,” he choked out, reaching for a glass of water. Emet-Selch left him to his regrets.

*****

The rest of the day proceeded accordingly. No matter where he turned, he missed Azem by mere moments. Halmarut was determined to talk his ear off about the new variety of poinsettia he’d received, while Loghrif attempted to push various candies off onto him. Azem seemed to have visited each member of the Convocation in turn, bestowing gifts as she went, which led Emet-Selch to a rather bitter thought — that she must be avoiding him.

His gift of soul sight was unparalleled, yet he couldn’t see that telltale shade of blue no matter where he looked. She had found some way to disguise herself, and it frustrated him to no end.

Deeper down, much as he didn’t care to acknowledge the feeling, it hurt him. He was usually the first person she would come to when returning from her travels (unless Hythlodaeus got in the way). Why was she going to such lengths to elude him now?

Defeated, he eventually returned to his office. He’d slumped into the chair at his desk before noticing the envelope in front of him. His name was scrawled across it in a delicate gold ink. He cursed his own hastiness as he tore it open. Inside was nothing but a simple note card with three words written on it.

_Come over tonight._

*****

The sun had long set by the time Hades appeared on his friend’s doorstep. He knocked twice before the door swung open. “You certainly --” he complained, but the sight of her left him speechless.

Azem, or Persephone rather, stood before him in a short red dress hemmed with white fluff. She’d pinned her hair atop her head, with a sprig of holly for adornment. The amount of skin left exposed between her bared shoulders and decollete gave rise to a warmth beneath his robes, a heat that crept up his neck and down to his --

“Come in already. You’re letting too much cold air in.” Good. A cool down was exactly what he needed. He crossed into the apartment and turned away to pull off his robes and mask, buying some needed time to compose himself. 

“I didn’t realize there was a dress code,” he groused, not quite looking at her. He wore his typical fare, a simple black button-down shirt and slacks.

“‘Tis the season,” she chirped.

“Uh huh. Where’s the other one?” He glanced about the living room and kitchen, half-certain that Hythlodaeus was about to burst from some hiding place in ambush.

“Oh. He’s not coming.” That was unexpected.

“That’s surprising. Did he care to mention his reason for declining?”

“Well…” At some point she’d moved into the kitchen and retrieved a wine setting for two. “I didn’t invite him.” The clink of the glasses in her hand echoed the clarity of his mind as he processed the implication. His mouth felt dry.

“You never lacked for confidence.” He swallowed. “First, you avoid me. Then you lead me on a wild goose chase throughout the Capitol. I could have declined your offer.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Were you so sure that I wouldn’t?” There was a pause. He looked up, noting the darkening of her cheeks.

“I didn’t know for sure. I only _hoped_ that you wouldn’t.” She coyly flashed her eyes at him, and bit her lower lip. Something twisted in his chest.

“Will you sit with me?” she asked, lifting the glasses in invitation. He followed her into the living room where she sat down on the sofa. He was bold enough to take the seat next to her, watching as she fiddled with the cork in the wine bottle. He didn’t think twice about placing his hands over hers and prying it away. 

“Ask for help when you need it,” he grumbled. The cork burst free with a resounding _pop_ , and he took the liberty to fill their glasses. A comfortable silence settled between them as they raised their glasses in cheers and drank the deep red liquid. He noticed that she was watching him for a reaction. Her smile twisted with confusion when he said nothing.

“I expected you to complain about the sweetness,” she admitted. 

“I’m more interested in learning what’s on your mind. This is an elaborate trap you’ve laid for me.”

“Is it a trap when you’ve walked so willingly into it?” Their eyes met, and Hades’ breath caught. When had she moved closer? His vision became focused on her glossy lips. Time came to a stand-still. Surely this was an invitation. He struggled with the urge to act, dozens of outcomes racing through his mind. He’d dreamed of kissing her for so very long, but what if he scared her off? 

While he warred with his thoughts, she tilted forward. Just when he thought their lips might meet, she shied away, tucking herself against his side. Her head came to rest at his shoulder. He realized that he’d wrapped his arm around her, though he didn’t remember doing so. 

“I’m happy you’re here,” she said after some moments. “I wasn’t sure I would make it home before the holiday. All I could think was that I wanted to come home and see you.”

“What put such an idea into your head?” He winced at his own lack of tact. 

“Everyone was preparing for their celebrations. They hung decorations on their trees, made presents for children, kissed beneath the mistletoe --” Visions of Nabriales (and his stupid headband) danced through his head. “The atmosphere was full of cheer and love, and I really wanted to…”

He was uncertain of who moved first. The warmth of her lips pressed against his, and it consumed all of his awareness. The sweet scent of her in his lungs, the way she fit so comfortably against him. Her fingers found their way into his hair and he groaned, embarrassment staining his cheeks. At some point he was forced to part for air. His hand had wandered to her hip, settling on the plush hem of her dress. He pulled back as if he’d done something terribly offensive until she placed her hand over his. 

She was smiling. The apologies lingering on his tongue reformed into something softer. “Is this dress also from those celebrations? This isn’t something you would find in Amaurot.” 

“Consider it my gift to you. I’d like to tell you all about it, if I could trouble you so.”

“I suppose you might persuade me. Though, speaking of your ‘gifts’...”

“Hmm?” She tilted her head in curiosity, perplexed by the deadpan expression that had settled across his face.

“You couldn’t have warned Elidibus against eating an unripened persimmon?” A pause, then Persephone erupted into laughter.

“Oh no! I thought he would have known better!”

“How terrible. You truly are lacking in awareness.”

“I am not!” Hades merely smirked, his eyes flicking upward. She followed his glance to find that he had quietly conjured a sprig of mistletoe to his hand and now held it conveniently above them. “When did you do that?”

“I rest my case,” he laughed dryly. “I’m not sure I quite understood the purpose of this. Perhaps you would enlighten me?” 

“I suppose further demonstration is in order.” Smiling, she wound her arms around his neck to pull him close, while outside the first snowflakes of the season began to fall. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you are a writer and/or enjoy FFXIV fics, come join a very friendly and enabling group: https://discord.gg/ftFnYbe
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @AzureSummoner


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